To Care
by LizzehBoo
Summary: A brief interlude between Kutner and Chase.


**To Care**

_(Summary: A brief interlude between Kutner and Chase.)_

_(Author's Note: Just felt like writing this. It's definitely far from perfect, but I've wanted to write something about these two for awhile. I just think they could connect very well as friends.)_

--

He wasn't sure why it got to him so easily.

Lawrence Kutner grazed his thumbs on the side of his coffee cup, absorbing the warmth silently into his fingers. He hadn't looked up from the lid in probably twenty minutes at least. They had come in just hours ago – a mother and a father with bullets littered throughout their bodies. The moment he saw the couple enter the ER, he knew damn well they didn't have a chance of making it. The monitors were already giving a bleak diagnosis. He had jumped forward, however, and done everything he possibly could to save them.

He could remember it vaguely, the flash of light before his eyes as he went into a strange, doctor-mode. He was yelling commands and working as if he had two or three sets of hands. In the end, however, the loud, air-breaking sound of the flat-lines froze him in his place. He could barely remember his reaction to it; he just knew he threw paddles down and accompanied them with a string of curses that would probably make children cry.

Maybe it wasn't them though. Perhaps the couple really didn't cause the reaction to be so strong. He'd seen plenty of people die in front of him, and he'd tried to save quite a few people while failing.

It was the little boy.

They had a little boy.

He looked down at his hands, watching them tremble under the realization. He could see the kid so clearly in his mind, standing there, deep black eyes just watching… waiting… begging for help. The kid didn't cry a tear. He just stood there. Gods, he was only six years old.

_Wasn't he?_

In a flash, he was standing before two mangled bodies, drowned in a pool of crimson, and listening to the silence. He could remember whispering two words, only to hear it echo in the stillness only to roar back in his ears to remind him that he was completely, totally alone.

_I was six years old._

A chair scooting out of place broke him from his reverie. He jumped slightly and turned his head to his new companion. Dr. Robert Chase took a seat in the chair across the table and folded his hands in front of him, looking like the little altar boy he probably was at one time. Kutner eyed him for a minute, a little confused as to why the Aussie was even there.

"Your shift ended an hour ago."

Chase shrugged. "I had an emergency surgery."

The man was ridiculously good at sounding lethargic. It really made him wonder how the hell he ended up with a sap like Cameron. _Then again, she's super hot._

"That couple, right - from the ER? The woman died in the emergency room-"

"The man died on the table. We only managed to keep him alive until the surgery."

"Yeah, I know. He died just minutes after the woman did."

Kutner took a long swig of his coffee to cover up his discomfort.

"Are you alright?" Chase asked, drumming his fingers on the table nonchalantly. He didn't appear to find the situation awkward at all.

Kutner stared at his coffee. "Fuck."

Chase raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"They had a _kid_, man. He was a little boy!"

"Yeah, I know. They're putting him in foster care until he's adopted."

Kutner closed his eyes, his lips tightening. "Did you come down here to tell me that or what?"

"What?"

He slammed his hands down on the table. "What do you _want_, Chase?"

Chase didn't look alarmed at all. The passive-aggressiveness was irritating Lawrence more.

"I'm sorry," Chase said plainly. "I know how hard you tried to save them. I wanted to make sure you were handling it well."

"I'm a _doctor_. Every doctor has to deal with these kinds of things. It's completely normal-"

"-Even for a guy who lost his parents to gunshots?" Chase interrupted. He never raised his voice – not once.

Kutner had to keep his mouth from hanging open. The statement was so personal, and he hardly knew how to react.

"Th-that's not any of your business!"

Chase folded his hands again, looking down to his fingers calmly, almost as if in prayer. Kutner felt his hands shaking in fury as he knocked his coffee cup to the floor and stood. The brown liquid spread across the floor more quickly than the clatter of plastic reached his ears. Chase, once again, didn't move.

"You… you… can't say something like that and then leave it alone! _Say something!_"

Chase looked up softly, blue-green eyes holding a sadness that once again left Kutner speechless.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to see if you could handle that. I know how hard it must have been for you."

Kutner stammered wordlessly for a moment, and then finally settled on brooding. "You wouldn't have any idea."

Chase sighed. "I do, actually."

Kutner slumped down in his chair again his arms hanging lifelessly in his lap. "Really…" He was unconvinced.

Chase, for the first time, looked a bit uncomfortable. He scratched the back of his head and glanced around the room for a moment. Finally, with a sigh, he concluded:

"Yes. I… walked into my house one day to find my Mum dead."

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen."

"I was six. I _watched_ my parents _die_."

"I watched her die too."

"You just said she-"

"She drank herself to death. I watched her die for years and years. I know exactly what you've been doing. You've shoved it away, tried to convince yourself it's better not to care."

Kutner licked his lips nervously.

"My father left when I was a child, and I watched my mother self-destruct. I hardly ever saw my dad, and every time I did, he made demands of me. I was never good enough. But that's fine. I don't do this stuff for him. I do it for me."

"I…" Kutner paused, then sighed. "I don't know why they got to me-"

"Like I said, you've been telling yourself for years that it's better not to care. It doesn't hurt if you don't care. You're not disappointed if you don't care."

Kutner could feel his hands shaking, and he bounced his legs worriedly.

Chase's voice was smooth and almost bitter:

"But it doesn't work that way… does it?"

Kutner swallowed thickly, feeling his eyes burn. "N-no. It doesn't."

Chase stood up and moved around the table. He placed a light hand on Kutner's shoulder.

"You need to face this, Kutner. You don't want it to screw you up. I know what happens when it does. It may hurt now, but it's better in the long run. Trust me."

He walked away with a grace unbeknownst to most men. Kutner looked at his watch. _That surgery ended over two hours ago. Maybe I misjudged the time._

Which meant Chase had stayed after work after all.

Kutner grabbed some napkins and began to mop up the mess he made, his mind lost in thought.

Chase was ridiculously good at _sounding_ lethargic.

_Well, _he thought to himself, _I guess everybody lies after all._


End file.
